Nobel
by Alpaux
Summary: She paused, then giggled. Now he was sure the alcohol was affecting her.


**So, hello! The author here. Just wanted to tell you that this is my first english written fanfic. It isn't my first language, so I'm sure there'll be mistakes you'll notice as you read.**

**It would mean a_ lot_ to me if you reviewed and let me know what you think of this! Oh, and feel free to point out any mistakes you see.**

**I think that's all for now... Enjoy!**

"Ah... Bickslow..." Lisanna breathed, her head spinning way too fast for her to feel embarrassed.

The man on top of her grinned, letting out a low chuckle before lowering his head back down to her neck. The metal of his visor was cold against the sensitive skin of her neck, but she wasn't so sure that was what was making her shiver.

She reached for the silver piece, sliding it up. She had always thought it made him look like some kind of twisted knight. A knight who had lost every piece of his shining armour except for that visor.

That particular object was the one thing that always came up to her mind whenever she tought of Bickslow, and the times she had seen him without it-which she could count with the fingers of one hand-it hadn't felt right, not exactly. But it definitely hadn't felt wrong either.

Once the visor was out of the way, Lisanna stared for what seemed like an eternity into the eyes of the man. They were dark red, shaped in a curious and somewhat exotic way.

Bickslow furrowed his eyebrows. Was something wrong? Was she worried he wouldn't be able to control his Figure Eyes? Well, that was stupid, but people tended to think that, probably because his eyes were usually concealed.

"You okay?" he finally asked. She smiled, shaking her head.

"Yes. It's just... your eyes. I like them."

It sounded almost childish the way she said it. He assumed it was due to the alcohol they both had enjoyed barely an hour ago. Her fingers then appeared right between his eyebrows as she slowly started tracing the thick, black, person shaped drawing on his face. Her eyes widened.

"Aaah... So it _is _a tattoo..." she paused, then giggled. Now he was sure the alcohol was affecting her.

"What?"

"You squinted."

Bickslow laughed loudly, showing Lisanna his guild mark when his tongue came out, something linked, in his case, to the action of laughing.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Aaaaabsolutely."

"Very well then. Where were we?"

He kissed her smiling lips, deepening the contact when his tongue slid with acquired skill into her mouth, earning a muffled gasp from the white haired girl. There wasn't such thing as a battle for dominance: he simple arrived, won, conquered. The alcohol he tasted could have belonged to either of them, but the sweetness... Oh, boy, that could only been Lisanna's.

Suddenly, Bicklow felt something change. Something was off.

Yes, Lisanna hadn't put up much of a fight, but she had been extremely responsive to every move his tongue had made. Now, however, it felt as though he were making out with a blow-up doll. He broke the contact.

There, underneath him, Lisanna laid with her eyes closed, steady breathing leaving her parted, pink lips, covered by a thin, shiny layer of saliva.

Bickslow face-palmed. She had fallen asleep in the middle of a very passionate kiss. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He _did _feel a little insulted, though.

"Unbelievable..." he muttered, running his fingers across his wild, dark hair.

He looked down, his eyes taking in the wonderful job the girl's strapless top was doing. Maybe... maybe he could still cope a feel... Not that she would care, would she? She had seemed fairly up for it just a couple minutes ago...

No, he said to himself, stopping his hand when it hovered above one of her breasts, trembling slightly with anticipation. He had done something similar to what he was about to do in other occasions, with other women. But not to Lisanna, he couldn't do that to her.

His gaze went up to her face again. Even through the slight blur the alcohol had left behind, she was beautiful. So pure, so angelic, even, with her soft white hair and porcelain skin. He ran his eyes over her again. Hell, even her body was heavenly.

Finally, he sighed, plopping down on the bed beside her, making her sleeping form bounce a little. He ran his hands down his face and left them over his eyes for a moment before letting his arms lay limp at his sides.

He turned his head, eyeing the beautiful female with whom he'd never thought he'd share his bed.

Man, had he chosen a bad day to be noble.


End file.
